


You Haven't Seen The Last of Me

by FlareWarrior



Series: Kinktober 2017 [5]
Category: Another Country (1984)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Burlesque Club, Blow Jobs, Body Worship, Crossdressing, Kinktober 2017, M/M, Sort of? - Freeform, a costume is ruined
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-07
Updated: 2017-10-07
Packaged: 2019-01-10 01:16:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12288156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlareWarrior/pseuds/FlareWarrior
Summary: "Three quarters of my audience is men who want to defile the very things they hold sacred. It's hypocrisy at its highest form. That is the real art."





	You Haven't Seen The Last of Me

**Author's Note:**

> This is a scene from a larger fic I'd like to write someday. Eventually. In which there are murders and gangs but more importantly: Tommy sneaks out at night to perform at a burlesque club.
> 
> (before anyone asks yes I know this isn’t how penises and drag work)

"Stop it," Tommy snapped. Guy froze with a cloth still pressed to the pink cut on Tommy's forehead.

"Does it hurt?" 

Tommy rolled his eyes and knocked his arm away. "I _meant_ stop looking at me like that."

"Like what?"

"Like you like _me_ , and not just my clothes." 

Guy had quite forgotten about said clothes in all his terror and worry, but, brought back to his attention, Tommy did look incredible. The costume was black lace and blue silk tonight. Black gloves climbed to his shoulders, equally black ribbons banded the tight blue corset around his straight waist up to where it dusted over his nipples with blue fringe. At the back the outfit flared, layers of more lace and black silk; in the front ruffles of black only reached low enough to cover the bulge between his legs. From beneath it trailed a garter belt that held up black silk stockings, at the end of which his feet were fitted into black heels with vicious spikes and deceptive bows.

Guy looked from the clothes to Tommy's haughty scowl, ruined makeup, and bruising forehead, and found himself equally entranced. Tommy, who, under normal circumstances, was his filter, couldn't save either of them now. "Oh, come now Tommy, I'm at least civilized enough to have a fetish and like you simultaneously."

Tommy scoffed, wearing the most derisive and sarcastic expression in his arsenal. "And I suppose you suddenly began to find me likeable after you discovered my hobbies."

"I rather think it was the other way around," Guy replied, conviction ringing over his nerves, but nerves making his voice a little softer all the same. "That is, I picked up the fetish because I already liked you, the way you develop a type after your first love -"

" _Stop_." Tommy said again, louder and sharper. Guy's mouth clicked shut. Tommy's glare held more than mockery now, but Guy wasn't sure if he preferred the hurt, spooked anger that had replaced it. "For what possible reason would I believe you?" Tommy's tone was scathing, but saying it from beneath his lashes ruined the effect.

In fact, it ruined the effect so much that it morphed into another altogether. Guy was jarringly reminded of that Tommy's stockinged legs were on either side of his hips, knees wide to accommodate when he'd barged in to perform what had amounted more to fussing than first aid. Makeup was scattered around him on the vanity he was sitting on, his shoulders pressed to the mirror. Guy worried his lip between his teeth for a moment, then took the risk.

"Let me show you."

Guy waited, waited a good long while to see if Tommy would punch him again or say something disparaging about his ancestry. He didn't. Honey-brown eyes watched him, tense and guarded. Guy held his gaze while he sank to his knees.

He had a tiny moment of panic once he got there because he hadn’t expected Tommy to let him get that far, but like hell was he going to waste the opportunity. He slipped one shined black heel off and discarded it on the floor. Tommy was still watching him, hands braced on the edges of the vanity. The silk covering his foot was warm and unbearably soft, the small, delicate muscles beneath it tense with waiting.

Slowly, deliberately, Guy pressed a kiss to his instep.

"Bennett." His name sounded like a warning, but nothing followed. Guy flashed him a winning smile and continued up, brushing his lips against the silk-covered skin of his ankle. 

Tommy coiled tight when Guy kissed his knee, his shoulders hunched, gaze fixed on guy's migrating lips. It should have been unnerving, being the subject of Tommy's intense scrutiny and rare silence, but it wasn't. When had he gotten to know Tommy well enough to tell the difference between his moods? The ominous darkness in his eyes was as telling as the high flush staining his cheeks and the ramrod-straight tension in his gloved arms. Guy bit back a giddy smile, fancying himself the charmer with his deadly serpent.

The stockings caught and bunched under his hands when he slid them up Tommy's long legs to push them further apart. Either the chill in the air was clinging to the thin fabric or he was on fire from finally getting to _touch,_ but Tommy's skin beneath it was just as hot. Tommy's fingers curled around the edge of the vanity, his chest rising on a deep, shaky breath.

Guy felt it shake through him too. There were dozens of boys in the dorms who could attest to his lack of shame and ever-increasing talent with a cock, and James had been a wonderful first love, but, somehow, none of them had been as important. He hadn’t realized how important this was, how important Tommy was, until he was already on the floor. Silly of him.

His fingers brushed above the edge of the stockings to creamy-white skin, softer than the fine-woven silk could ever manage. He slid them further, to the hem of the skirt, starving for every inch of bare flesh, to see, to touch, to taste. The wood creaked under Tommy's grip.

Guy dragged his hands back, letting his fingertips score lines of fire on Tommy's legs to the garter clasps. Confidence rising, he unclipped first the front clasp on Tommy’s neglected leg, then glided his fingers along the rim of the stocking to unclip the rear one.

Silk whispered against the inside of Tommy's thigh as Guy drew it down, earning him another trembling gasp. Guy kept on, coaxing it slowly off his knee, the top of his foot, revealing leagues of unexplored skin until he discarded it and Tommy's other shoe under the vanity.

His kissed his way up bare flesh to Tommy’s hip, leaving a wet trail of heated, open-mouthed kisses as he went. A jar fell to the floor when he nudged Tommy's knees further apart to kiss the inside of his thigh, just beside the lace that barely held his cock. Guy pulled away out of habit at the sound - and promptly forgot what had made him do so. 

Tommy was a trembling wreck. One hand had migrated to grip the top of the mirror, his bottom lip a tortured red, no doubt from trying to maintain his long silence. Sweat gleamed on his prominent collarbone. The corset had ridden down from his heaving breaths to highlight and brush against tight, dark nipples on every inhale. His legs were spread sinfully wide, vulnerable and inviting, one covered in a running stocking and the other in gleaming red marks. His feet, unable to reach the floor, were braced on the drawer handles to keep himself open, as Guy had placed him.

It was Guy who broke the unspoken pact of silence, breathing out a sigh that mingled with Tommy's name as he fell towards him. He hooked Tommy's bare leg over his shoulder and dragged him to the edge of the vanity. Tommy yelped and scrabbled his other hand off the abused wood into Guy's hair while powders and brushes rained to the floor around Guy's knees.

"Bennett-" he gasped as Guy pushed the fringe up out of his way. His mouth watered at the sight of Tommy’s heavy shaft, the lace covering the tip shining wet. Guy nosed along his length, teasing though he felt about as desperate as Tommy must be. Tommy keened through gritted teeth, a sound that became a shocked moan when Guy parted his lips and mouthed at the head through thin lace.

It was like the dam had broken on the sound. Every gasping inhale was followed by a choked moan or broken cry as Guy worked his way along Tommy's cock until the lace was wet and ruined under his mouth. Only when Tommy's grip on his hair turned tight and demanding did he attempt to find the top edge of the lingerie - and was dismayed to find it was either attached or ended somewhere under the corset. Tommy shifted beneath him, begging wordlessly, and Guy decided he had no patience for complicated outfits just then.

Tommy's broken sounds turned irritated for the brief second between the lace tearing and Guy’s lips finally closing around his cock.

Heady musk hit his tongue as he sank down on Tommy's length, a flavor he chased with laving passes over the head and trailing licks along the shaft. Tommy arched against the mirror and into his mouth, pushing deeper with a sobbing cry. Guy hollowed his cheeks and swallowed, drawing a jolt and a ragged moan. This was something Guy was good at, and he had every intention of showing off.

Guy teased him until spit was dripping onto his fingers and Tommy was all but writhing on the protesting vanity. Then he braced himself, relaxed, and took Tommy in until his nose brushed thick hairs and Tommy's cock bumped the back of his throat.

" _Bennett_!" Tommy cried, and Guy smirked as best he could and set a deep and fast rhythm.

Tommy's fingers kneaded his hair, his keening moans and gasps at last uninhibited as he lost himself in ecstasy. Guy gripped his hips to keep him still, dragged him closer while he sucked Tommy in and brought him to the brink.

"Bennett," Tommy gasped, high and thready, tugging insistently at Guy's hair. Guy hummed in response, flicking his tongue against the underside of his glans.

Tommy tensed, lolling his head to the side. "Guy, for heaven's - sake- _ah_."

That, that was the most beautiful sound he'd ever heard. Guy surged forward as Tommy came, swallowing while he shuddered and gasped through it. He kept on until the hand not embedded in the mirror’s molding pawed at his hair.

Guy pulled off with a wet smack. He turned his head kissed Tommy’s palm, then the inside of his forearm, slowly getting to his feet as he went higher. When he was tucked close so his own hardness pressed where Tommy was exposed and softening, he cupped the back of Tommy's damp neck and captured his lips. His other hand carefully unhooked Tommy's from the mirror and pinned it in place, twining their fingers together.

Eventually he drew away. He traced his thumb along the hinge of Tommy's jaw, leaving a shaded trail in his wake. It distracted him from the searching look in Tommy's eyes. He followed the dark marks back to where black smudges marked Tommy’s hips. Guy looked at his hands and found them stained with eyeshadow.

"That didn't prove anything." Tommy murmured.

Guy pressed him against the vanity to whisper in his ear. "I'm not finished yet."


End file.
